


Amnesia AU

by Origingirl



Series: Reconstruct, Rebuild, Renew [1]
Category: Transformers: Prime
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fluff, I promise, M/M, smut in later chapters, things will start slow but build up
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-15
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-08-09 00:23:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7779466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Origingirl/pseuds/Origingirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Unicron has been returned to stasis with the help of the Matrix of Leadership. As we all know, Optimus Prime no longer remembers himself as the noble Autobot leader, but thinks himself to be the Iacon archivist, Orion Pax. But what if defeating Unicron also meant removing his influence on those who have seeked out his life blood for means of power? If this was the case, would a certain warlord be robbed of all his knowledge of being leader of the Decepticons? Would the dark energon along with all the years of power-hunger, be siphoned out of Megatron, returning him to the mindset of a time when he was still pushing to revolutionize their world?</p><p>This is that story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At Sixes and Sevens

**Author's Note:**

> *iz a shit for that crappy summary* Welp, I tried! This is going to be my first dedicated chapter fic in a long time. Hope you all enjoy! :3
> 
> NOTE: This is un-beta'd. Lookin for a beta reader.

Try as he might, he couldn’t escape the darkness of his slowly fading consciousness.

All he knew was the fact that he was lying on a very smooth, cold, metal floor.

Had he been defeated in a match? No… no, that couldn’t be.

Sure, there were the few times where he underestimated his opponent and struggled with the consequences, but… he’d gone undefeated since he’d entered the rings.

Other than the fact that he was lying on a floor, the only other element he could make sense of was that something wasn’t right.

Registering that final thought, his processor finally slipped into stasis.

***

“Come on! We have to keep trying!” Arcee exclaimed, all her blaster power going to the door which held Optimus, Megatron, and the presumably deceased God of Chaos.

Finally, Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead were able to blast through the door.

Still on guard as the dust began to settle, the three Autobots cautiously stepped forth into the chamber which used to house Unicron’s spark. They were expecting the worse, as Ratchet had said before – releasing the Matrix had unknown consequences. Whether Optimus was alive or dead, they did not know. When the dust had finally settled, and no immediate threats made themselves clear, Arcee motioned for the others to follow closer to the large gaping hole in the center of the room. At a first glance, it’d seem that the room was completely barren. Upon closer inspection, the three Autobots laid optics on not one, but both faction leaders lying motionless on the floor. Blumblebee’s first instinct was to run to check Optimus’s vitals. The scout watched their leader closely until the slightest ventilation escaped him. Sighing in relief, Bumblebee motioned for the others to come over.

-//He’s not dead. Let’s get him back to base.//- Bumblebee said, attempting to lift up Optimus on his right side. With help from Bulkhead, they were able to lift Optimus off the ground by his arms.

“Ratchet,” Arcee spoke through their comm. link, “send a ground bridge.”

“Optimus… is he-“ Ratchet began to say, fearing the worst, but was quickly cut off and reassured by the two wheeler.

“Dead? No. In need of medical attention? Yes.”

“Thank Primus. Hurry. I don’t want you getting exposure to dark energon longer than for what is absolutely necessary.” He said, voice and tone mutual, but straining to show the large amount of relief he was sure everyone was feeling knowing Optimus was alive.

Ratchet typed the coordinates Arcee was communicating from and the bright green swirl of a ground bridge spiraled open before the three Autobots.

Arcee motioned for Bulkhead and Bumblebee to pull Optimus through to their base as quickly as possible. She was about to turn and walk through herself when she remembered that when they’d first entered into the chamber, both Optimus AND Megatron were lying on the floor. Arcee felt a sudden rush of fear and she tensed, daring herself to turn towards the direction of the large hole in the center of the room. Surely enough, Megatron was still lying motionless and wasn’t a threat… but for how long?

As cautious and fearful as Arcee was in this moment, a thought popped up in her processor and her blue-magenta optics widened at all the possible danger this thought harbored. At first she dismissed it, turning back towards the ground bridge portal, but then thought of all the advantages this sudden idea had for the team. 

“Ratchet?” Arcee spoke through the comm. link. 

“Yes, I’m here. I something wrong?”

“The opposite of wrong, actually. I think I may have discovered an asset that could give team Prime the upper hand from this point forward. I just don’t know whether or not you’d blow a circuit if I told you the specifics of it.”

There was a short pause, and then, “I may have an idea of what you’re thinking, but go ahead.”

“It just so happened that when Unicrons’ spark was sent back to stasis, both Optimus and Megatron were knocked out cold. If Optimus is alive, I have a hard time believing that bucket-head would perish so easily.” She said, allowing Ratchet to retort if he so wished. Hearing no objections thus far, she continued.

“We can shift the balance of power back on our side by taking Megatron prisoner. If I had to guess by the amount of dark energon that was circulating through Megatron’s frame, he won’t be waking up for a while, which in turn gives us enough time to properly restrain him and disable his communications link to the Nemesis.” She said, finishing the proposition of her thought.

Ratchet sighed, Arcee’s explanation proving his suspicion of her idea correct. While this would indeed give them the upper hand, there was no telling of what Megatron was capable of even if they took the proper measures in restraining a mech of his size and strength. Bringing the leader of the Decepticons into their base with their own leader currently out of commission was risky at the least. Even if he were to examine Megatron, Ratchet had little to no real practice studying the effect dark energon has on a living cybertronian. Megatron’s awakening would be unpredictable, which would prove most counterproductive. He could wake anywhere within a minute to a month of being brought to their base, the former being immensely daunting. On the other hand, the advantage this would present just may lead to a possible ceasefire, and maybe… just maybe… an end to their four million year civil war. Ratchet knew that the latter was false hope, but with Megatron behind bars at their base and unable to reach the communications of the Nemesis, they at least stood a chance. 

Nodding to himself, he responded to Arcee, “Very well. I’ll send Bulkhead and Bumblebee back through.”

Needless to say, neither the scout nor the Wrecker were the least bit enthusiastic about the new plan.

“I’ll explain later, right now we need to get Megatron through that ground bridge, examined, and restrained.”

Bulkhead and Bumblebee looked at Arcee then at each other, then nodded. They grabbed Megatron under the arms, and pulled him through, Arcee following right behind them.

With some effort, the two mechs pulled the currently offlined leader of the Decepticons onto a spear medical berth. Ratchet made sure Optimus’ spark pulse was steady before moving over to run a quick examination on Megatron’s frame. Everything looked… fried for lack of a better term. The warlords systems - all of them - were overheated and his frame was emitting steam to an extent. While this would fix itself given enough time, what Ratchet couldn’t make sense of was why Megatron’s processor wavelengths were giving off irregular patterns. Usually, a cybertronian processor that was functioning normally would give off a single even pattern that would repeat over and over, which is indicative of proper thought process and healthy electric transmissions. What Megatron’s processor was telling Ratchet was that his thoughts, memories, and subconscious were scrambled. Thinking nothing of it, assuming something like this was an obvious effect of the large amount of dark energon Megatron exposed himself to, Ratchet proceeded to disable all possible communications in Megatron’s comm. link system. Once that was completed, Bulkhead and Bumblebee dragged Megatron over to a section of their base that was rarely ever used, as the amount of decepticon prisoners slowly decreased over the years they were on earth - until recently. An offlined Megatron was lead down a hallway lined with stasis pods, each equipped with stasis chains and cuffs on their interior. Megatron was placed on the berth slab inside the pod and attached to all the restraining equipment. After chaining his frame and cuffing the base of his peds and servos, Ratchet pushed a button on the side of the pod, which caused the lid of the pod to close and seal shut. Even if Megatron awoke from his slumber and broke through the strong cuffs and chains, the pod itself was designed to withstand the brunt of the strongest force any warrior could muster up. This combined with the locked and concealed room the pod was in assured that Megatron was successfully captured and restrained. 

Even so…

Ratchet knew from years and years of witnessing Megatron’s unruly power and strength that even the strongest bonds could break under the warlords mighty grasp. He just hoped Megatron would stay offline as long as possible, all the better for their team to come up with a game plan.

With that, Ratchet, Bulkhead, and Bumblebee left the hallway containing the pods.

***

Frightening? Not quite…

Frightened wouldn’t be the correct term. He didn’t get scared. This was more of a displacing feeling. As if he was a turbo fox removed from its natural habitat and placed in a brand new environment. This was new, unusual, outlandish, and eerie. 

This was not right.

This wasn’t how the plan was supposed to go. 

He should have a better handle on things as chief of communications and coordination.

As soon as Unicrons’ spark was sent back into stasis, all communications were momentarily scrambled. This scramble somehow allowed the Autobots enough time to not only rescue their leader, but also take their own faction leader as prisoner, which gained them the upper hand in this war. All may have seemed lost, if it weren’t for the fact that Soundwave was a reasonable mech who relied on logic and rationality to get him past his obstacles. Unlike Megatron, the communications officer found himself to be more in-touch with Decepticon ideology that his leader at times. Knowing Megatron longer than anyone else, Soundwave knew just how much his own ideals could consume him. Before the moment Megatron realized Unicron would not work with him in ruling over both Earth and Cybertron, the warlord was consumed with his own selfish desire to obtain as much power as possible from dark energon. As foolish and counterproductive Soundwave knew Megatron was acting, he pledged he’d follow his leader to the end if it meant making Decepticon ideology a reality. 

At what point did Megatron begin to slowly lose himself? Soundwave did not know. 

At this very moment, however, the most rational course of action to take was to do whatever it was that’s necessary in order to get Megatron back to the Decepticons. How? Soundwave came to the conclusion that contacting the Autobot’s medic, Ratchet, and trying to come to a mutual agreement would serve best. He shuddered at the thought, but with Starscream banished, the leadership role was currently resting on his shoulders. It was up to him and him alone to determine their next course of action. As much as Soundwave knew Megatron would pester him as to stoop so low and ask the Autobots for help, this decision would yield the quickest and most efficient results.

Nodding to himself, Soundwave worked diligently to trace any Autobot frequency that would lead him to a line which would allow him to send a message through to the Autobot base’s system.

With any luck, he’d be able to patch a message through sooner rather than later.

Secretly, Soundwave longed for his leader to let go of his lust for power and focus on rebuilding Cybertron under fair and equal terms, as they’d originally set out to do. 

Right now, all he could do was send the message and wait…

...waiting…

It always made him feel so helpless.

***

He began to rekindle slowly, his senses coming back one by one. He couldn’t hear any indication that there were any other mechs around, so he must be alone. That was good. In any state of helplessness, it’s best if you’re alone - no one is there to take advantage of you. Soon after, he could begin to feel some sort of… bonds holding him. This was a bit unsettling. He was never good with close spaces, let alone being restrained and deprived of all free range movement. His optics snapped open, revealing a blurry image of a small room. As his vision slowly came into focus, he could now clearly see the predicament he was in. Not only was he in a very small room, but he was also locked up in a stasis pod, restrained by stasis chains and cuffs.

...alright.

Megatron knew that struggling would do him no good in this case scenario. All he could do was ponder in confusion about how he got here, and why the bots that brought him here felt the need to restrain him. Sure, he was the most successful and often times feared gladiator in all of Kaon - and most likely all of Cybertron - but as strong and mighty as most viewed him to be, he was civil and rational. Never would he let himself get blinded by rage enough to cause an issue with any group of mechs, for he knew better than that. It would solve nothing.

So… why was he restrained?

His helm clunked back to the berth slab inside the pod. He must admit, he’d never felt this confused and dazed in his life before. He’d always known what he was doing, where he was, and why he was there. Now? It felt like he wasn’t even ON Cybertron.

After resurfacing somewhat from his trance-like state, he immediately checked his comm. links. If anyone knew anything about what predicament he was currently in, it was Soundwave. After trying a multitude of times, he came to the realization that whoever placed him here disabled his comm. link system in its entirety. While this knowledge was unfortunate in the sense that he couldn’t contact anyone, it did provide some information as to who these mechs were that put him here. Anyone who knew anything about disabling whichever systems within a given mechanism had to have either a job or a sorts of background experience as a medic. With this information, he instantly compiled a mental list of which medic may have taken part in putting him in this situation. While it was possible that the many medics who worked at the ring may have had a part in this, he couldn’t think of any reason he might have given them to take such drastic of measures as to restrain him like this. Shockwave would never do this, so he was out. 

Thinking a bit harder, he only know of one other person who was a very experienced medic, and that’d have no problem disabling something as simple as a comm. link system. Though, he wondered why Ratchet of all people would have part in his situation. He barely knew the mech, and the only reason he did know him was introduction through Orion. Speaking of which the devious thought that Orion would have anything to do with this briefly crossed his processor, but was then just as quickly dismissed. Orion was like a brother to him, and it was hard to believe an introverted archivist like him would be involved in anything like this.

Emitting a sigh, Megatron stayed put. He knew when to fight and when to comply. As of now, he wasn’t being threatened, nor was he in any other position where his life was on the line. The best thing to do was to wait and see just who was responsible for this. With any luck, he’ll be asked a few questions and released.

That was the ideal scenario anyways.

***

He slowly came to, making everyone in the room sigh with relief. Upon first examination, he was met with a familiar face - Ratchet, and was grateful for that. Looking around, there were bots there whom he did not know, which raised the question of where he was and why he was here.

“Oh, thank Primus you’re alright.” He heard Ratchet say.

It took him a moment to reply, feeling a bit hazy. “I feel a little off, but other than that, I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be? Did something happen?”

As if everything that could possibly go wrong suddenly went wrong, a grave expression covered the medic’s face plate. “Are you… sure you’re feeling alright, Optimus?”

“Optimus? Who’s he?”

That only made Ratchet’s expression worsen. There was a long silence that descended upon the room. Ratchet, along with the three other bots standing around him, looked disturbed almost. Ratchet cleared his throat, then looked at their faction leader in a way that made him feel incredibly misplaced. It looked like he was drawing a conclusion of sorts, but… a conclusion to what?”

“Orion?” Ratchet asked.

“Yes? What’s wrong Ratchet?” Orion asked, concerned now more than ever. Something was indeed wrong. Ratchet was never one to lose his calm so quickly. 

As if his response verified his conclusion, Ratchet’s optics widened. He stepped back a few feet, mumbling to himself, “Primus, it’s actually him! How could this… why did this…”

Orion was dumbstruck, looking at the other bots in the room, hoping they’d provide him with some sort of explanation for Ratchet’s reasoning for being so out of character. However, the only thing he got from them were sad expressions similar to Ratchets.

Another silence fell on them all, leaving Orion feeling not just displaced, but… afraid? Yeah. A little bit.

Not being able to stand this sudden predicament he found himself in all of a sudden, he spoke up, “I can’t say I understand the reason for all your sad faces, but… if it’s not too much trouble, I’d like an explanation.” Orion said, hoping his gentle tone would allow someone to speak to him.

Ratchet appeared to be thinking on something, before nodding to himself and turning to Orion once more.

“There’s something you need to see.”


	2. Again From The Top

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short update. I felt bad for not posting for a while.

It was quiet still, which in an odd sense soothed him.

Megatron was normally accustomed to the constant loud throttling noises of the arena in Kaon he’d once called home, before leaving the gladiatorial ring for the political. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d experienced complete and utter silence. 

It was nice.

This opportunity of a quiet moment gave him time to reflect. Nothing serious or anything, just some subtle highlights of his life, whether it’d been joining Soundwave for a drink from time to time or loosely chatting with other gladiators he’d come to know and especially his of-becoming-more-frequent-at-the-time meetings with Orion. He’d remember the archivist to be very two-faced upon their first meet. Not in a bad way necessarily, just that he’d go from quiet and reserved to very passionate about a topic that’d catch his interest. After meeting countless times, Orion had revealed that he had indeed been a little intimidated at first by Megatron’s physical appearance. Laughing it off together, Megatron had told him to think nothing of it and that it was to be expected, and that others - even those among his hometown - were also far from comfortable meeting him for the first time. He’d also told Orion that he didn’t expect him to be so well… humorous. Call it case system turmoil influence, but truthfully Megatron had his own picture of Orion in his head before even meeting him face to face. An archivist from Iacon in his mind was quiet half the time and asked questions the other, as the case system would dictate, but like all other norms of society the pair broke together, this one of Orion being the perfect example of an archivist was no exception.

And he was grateful for that.

In fact, that was the first time in a long time he’d thanked Primus for anything.

Those were such good times, and for a reason Megatron couldn’t quite land a servo on… he felt like that’d happened not cycles ago, but years ago.

Shrugging it off he phased back into the calm, happy place in his mind, filled with memories from what appeared to him as not long ago, when in reality they took place 4 million years in the past.

:-:

“Just wait here, ok?” Ratchet said, leading Orion down a long hallway that seemed to stretch on for miles.   
They rarely used this area of containment of their base for three main reasons, the first of which being they hadn’t caught Decepticon prisoners in a long time and thus had no purpose to imprison them for later questioning. Secondly, despite this area being a part of their base, it was very maze-like and even Ratchet had a hard time navigating it from time to time (and it didn’t help that all the doors and walls were painted with the same color scheme). The final reason was one no one liked to admit to, yet everyone felt the same way about, an that was the fact that it was… creepy for lack of a better word. The place was expansive and when the lights were all turned off, it gave off a very unpleasant feeling of unease and perhaps a side of paranoia. Miko loved coming up with a bunch of ghost stories for this place, which they’d all have a laugh about, but in reality it didn’t help the spooky feeling at all.

“Wait where exactly?” Orion asked, stopping behind Ratchet when the medic _finally_ approached the end of the hall. It was a door like any other they’ve passed on their way down here, only a bit bigger and upon closer inspection appeared to be made out of thicker looking metal.

Ratchet turned to face Orion, and pointed at where he was currently standing, which was only a few feet away from the door. “Here. Until I come out.”

Orion nodded, and agreed with a simple, “Alright.” He then watched as his friend input a code on the door’s key pad and it retracted open. Stepping past the threshold, Ratchet turned to re-enter the code for the door to close shut and sealed, leaving Orion alone to ponder his many thoughts and questions on the other side.

:-:

His optics immediately snapped open at the sound of soft ped steps coming from the other side of the large door in front of him. _Finally_ , he thought. Megatron will see who was responsible for his current predicament. The door retracted open, and then a small silence passed before he heard it close shut. Lights flickered on, probably motion-detective ones he thought. Because of the way he was restrained, Megatron was unable to lift his helm to see this mech. Luckily, the mystery-bot spoke up.

“Megatron?” He heard. There was oh so much hesitation in that voice, as if it were afraid of something… wait! He knew that voice!

“Ratchet?” He said, his tone a mix of perplexity and bewilderment. “What’s going on? Why am I restrained like a common cyber-animal?” Megatron asked, unable to help himself. Along with each question that arose to his processor, additional frustration made itself known as well - mostly because of the fact that he couldn’t believe the good doctor had anything to do with this. His new found frustration also lead him to struggle against the restraints, resulting in the cuffs and chains giving off a small electrical charge - not enough to kill or even hurt, but just enough to shock. 

“What in the name of the Unmaker is the meaning of all this?!”

_“Settle down.”_ Ratchet scolded. “I promise I’ll tell you all you wish to know after I’ve given you a proper explanation as to why you’re here like this.”

He still felt more than antagonized, but did as the medic told him to and ceased his struggling. 

“Thank you.” Ratchet said, and walked around the pod so he could speak with Megatron optic to optic. “Now, what I’m about to tell you will most likely be the hardest thing you’ve ever had to hear. All I ask is that you listen actively. Any conclusions you wish to draw for yourself to gain a better understanding of this are entirely up to you.”

Megatron laughed at this. “Please, doctor. I’ve seen and heard enough to fulfill multiple lifetimes.”

Ratchet gave a single spark-felt chuckle in return. He knew Megatron’s mannerisms well before the war had broke out, and knew from the moment he’d uttered his name that this Megatron was not the corrupted warlord he’d known for the last four million years, which in turn would lead to the conclusion that returning Unicron to stasis had the same effect on Megatron as it did on Optimus.

Nodding to himself, Ratchet thought for a moment. Organizing his thoughts before speaking was always the key to long explanations. He was able to do this rather quickly, since being a medic often times included its fair share of long speeches.

“I’ll begin with a story to make things simpler. Four million years ago, the great war for Cybertron broke out. Two sides emerged fighting against one another, with Optimus Prime leading the Autobots and Megatron leading the Decepticons.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thinking of getting a beta reader for this since I want to go far with the story. Anyone interested?


	3. A Tale to Interpret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet spills the beans whether he wants to or not.

Even if he listened as tentatively as possible, Megatron couldn’t believe what he was hearing. What he found particularly eerie was how Ratchet used his name to refer to a mech who has basically opened the gate to an all-out civil war.

“Soon after the war began, it quickly consumed Cybertron. All resources available to our people were diminishing faster with each passing cycle. In the beginning, our hope, as well as moral, were strong, and that was one of the problems. Neither side was willing to give it up for the sake of the survival of both our race as well as Cybertron itself. And to be honest… I feel that neither Optimus or Megatron wanted to. I’ve been with Optimus through thick and thin, and he’s always pledged he fought for the right of all sentient beings, but even the noblest can crumble under the right circumstances, especially in the heat of battle.”

“You doubt your leaders intentions?”

“Primus, no!”

Megatron rolled his optics slightly, giving the doctor a knowing look.

Ratchet sighed. “I wouldn’t call it doubt so much as an _immense_ feeling of unease.”

“I didn’t say you’d be wrong to doubt him, Ratchet. From what you’ve been telling me, I’d be surprised if you weren’t the least bit uncomfortable, if not beginning to question what the future holds if you’re to remain doing ‘business as usual’.”

“I know.” Ratchet said, allowing his tone to show just how exhausted he was. “Like I was saying, the hope and moral we had in the beginning runs low if not already diminished completely.”

Megatron nodded, understanding that four million years of battle after battle would without a doubt do a good amount of wear and tear on any mech’s spark. Silence consumed the room for a few moments, neither of them uttering a word as the result of a distinct feeling of melancholy washing over their processors. 

Megatron was the first to speak, “If it saves you any grief, you may skip to the part where you explain to me why I’m restrained like this.”

Chuckling, Ratchet agreed. “Very well. I’m sure you’re familiar with the chaos bringer Unicron.”

“I… yes. How is he related to any of this?” Megatron asked, more than surprised that this had to do with Unicron of all things.

“In the event of a last stand against him, you and Optimus Prime put aside your differences to return the mighty god back to stasis. In fact, the very core of this planet we stand upon now is comprised of Unicorns’ undying energy.”

“Dark energon? But, that’s just a myth is it not?”

“I wish that were the case. In fact, once you discovered its whereabouts during the war, I fear that that was the point at which you went off the deep end in your quest to gain more power and control. At first, you wanted it as a strength enhancer for your troops, but as time went on that want quickly changed it’s direction from beneficial for your soldiers to making you the most powerful being in the universe.”

Megatron laughed at that, rolling his optics. _“By Primus…”_ He uttered, at a loss for words. He wouldn’t dare try to think of what he’d done in the past thousands of years with a power crazy processor. Come to think of it, he was starting to sound like a member of the council - always looking for more power and control for oneself, and not caring about the greater good.

The very thing he tried to stop from ruling Cybertron… was what he slowly became in the end.

“I suppose this is the part where you say ‘I don’t believe this’.” Ratchet said.

Megatron thought about that, and in a moment of sudden realization answered Ratchet with a touch of mourning to his tone. “Not quite. To be honest… you don’t sound too far off.”

Ratchet gave him a questioning glance.

“I know myself, doctor. I know that despite my good intentions to make Cybertron a place of equality, I can be brash and more often than not let my bias views get the best of my thinking and decision making.” Megatron recalled, copying the words of wisdom Orion had given to him some time ago. The archivist always seemed to be there, allowing Megatron to bounce his thoughts off a mech who thought differently than he before he’d made any brash choices. Where was Orion during all of this?

“What you describe sounds like just about any other cybertronian wanting to make a difference.”

“Exactly my point. Anyone can lose their way. It doesn’t matter how or for what purpose, but it’s always a possibility hiding itself away in everyone’s mind. Good intentions with a touch of recklessness can quickly lead to the desire for control and power, and if one does not take extra precautions… madness can follow suit.” Megatron said.

Ratchet nodded. “I suppose you’re right when you put it that way - about anyone falling victim to madness.”

“That’s just it, Ratchet,” Megatron spoke as if there was an invisible force choking his processor. “I don’t think I ever fell victim to it. The insatiable want was just… there.” He said, clenching his fists. “From what you’ve told me so far, it sounds like I didn’t have to go through an _entire personality change_ to have gotten to that point of instability.” He was peeved, to say the least.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself.” Ratchet forced out. Megatron, the warlord, has done so much wrong in the past years - unspeakable things that’d make any normal mech shiver with disgust at the thought. Put simply, he was a monster in most’s optics. But, hearing this come from the mind of the Megatron who hasn’t done anything horrid was… unsettling to say the least. Call it a hunch, but as Ratchet thought about what Megatron had just said with the combined knowledge of who he was before he went off the deep end… it almost seemed to be fated. He was a believer in free will of all, of course, but at times there are incidents that cannot be explained or that are the least likely to happen. Ratchet was also a believer in their Creator, but… why would Primus want this war in the first place?

Megatron saw the thoughtful and uneasy look on Ratchets faceplate when a question arose in his processor - one of which he’d felt like Ratchet was keeping from him on purpose. “I do have one question left.”

Ratchet quirked a metal brow. “Yes? What is it?”

“Orion. Where was he during all of this? When I went off to fight this _Optimus Prime_ character, was he with me?”

“Ah.” Ratchet uttered in a half-sparked laugh. “It was only a matter of time I suppose.”

“Orion had been a gracious ally to me ever since the beginning. We had met many times and discussed a multitude of ways to which we could break the caste system to make Cybertron an equal and righteous place for all members of our race. Of course, I must know what happened -- wait. Don’t tell me…” Megatron came to an abrupt halt in his words, his spark chamber freezing over at the thought that Orion could have -- 

“He’s alive. Different, but alive nonetheless.”

Megatron was sure Ratchet could see his frame physically relax at the intel that Orion wasn’t killed during the war. He smiled to himself. Orion always had a strong and stubborn personality just as much as he was patient and calm, which was - if Megatron had to guess - what drew him to the archivist in the first place.

“May I see him?”

Ratchet knew before he’d even stepped in the door that whether Megatron was right-minded or not, he’d request to see his nemesis, or in this case his dearest friend. Ratchet knew Orion well, but the archivist didn’t really speak of his relationship with Megatron in depth when the two of them talked. He guessed it just… never got brought up? Sure, Ratchet asked from time to time if assisting Megatron was a good idea, which in turn Orion always responded with a bold statement of reassurance that ‘of course it is’, but the medic always left it at that… never suspecting that there was more to them than meets the eye. They were friends, that much is true. Optimus would have ended him the first chance he’d got if he didn’t harbor such a strong liking for the current ex-warlord, so Ratchet knew by that that they were very close. How close? That he wasn’t sure of to the point.

Now, however, came the difficult part - what this whole explanation was leading up to. The doctor visibly cringed at the thought of having to tell Megatron that his close ally and dearest friend was, in fact, the leader of the Autobots he’d previously been speaking of.

“Do you want the sugar coated version?”

Megatron rolled his optics. “Have I ever?”

“I mean it. What I’m about to tell you will in no way shape or form be easy to hear… not even for a mech like you who’ve seen and heard it all.”

“Ratchet.” Megatron cut in, with a tone that closely resembled that of who he’d been not even a day ago. 

It made Ratchet flinch, remembering how he’d come to hate the tyrant's voice. He then reminded himself that this mech laid out before him was not the same mech who’d tried to extinguish Optimus’s spark for four million years.

“I can assure you that whatever information you have to tell me regarding Orion’s whereabouts, seeing how you yourself try to avoid spitting it out, is of grave importance, and I shall handle this information and cope with it however I see fit - no matter how impossible or unbelievable it may seem.” He spoke calmly, trying to make the doctor spill what he had to say about Orion.

“Very well, then. Brace yourself.”

“No need.”

“Orion Pax accepted the mantle of the Matrix after he and you had your chat with the council. They were moved by Orion's words and passion, which highly differed from your own as you spoke to them before he had the chance to, thus saw fit to appoint him as the next Prime.” Ratchet explained, watching Megatron's every motion for a sign of sudden rage. Seeing none, he continued. “You were enraged and devastated, and if I had to take a guess, felt very betrayed. You stormed out, severing all ties with the council… and Orion as well. Shortly after, you took your legion of newly gained followers, in which you named Decepticons, and waged what was the start of the 4 million year war. You and Orion, who’d become Optimus Prime, battled ruthlessly. Soon, we had to resort to a mass exodus in a stretch to what I assumed at first carry on as factions, but in reality was just so we could keep fighting.” Ratchet said, optics drifting to the floor. All his plating clenched at once at the memory of when it’d start to happen - the loss of moral, the day after day fighting wearing everyone out…

“Like I said. Soon enough, it became hard for our soldiers to see past the next punch, kick, battle, or cycle. We lost touch with reality, which is where we’re at right now - a small group of an echo of what used to be the start of something righteous. Now look at us.” The medic sighed, openly showing how tired he was at even the thought of all their losses.

He turned his gaze back to the restraining pod, where he saw Megatron’s stoic and blank expression. Primus only knows what’s bubbling beneath the silver mech’s plating right now, but he could tell he’d need time to absorb the information. Or so he thought.

“Oh, quit sulking would you?” Megatron spoke, catching Ratchet off guard. How was he even able to open his mouth after hearing all that? Ratchet knew that if he were in Megatron’s situation, he sure as all hell wouldn’t be able to utter a single word after soaking in all this information - and with none of it consisting of the slightest upside.   
“All this is very pessimistic, yes, yes, I know. I want to see him if he’s here.”

“I understand he was your greatest ally --”

“ _Is_ my greatest ally, as well as a dear friend. You above all should know that, doctor.” Megatron objected, sensing even from inside the pod just how reluctant Ratchet is to allow him to speak with Orion… Optimus? His friend. 

Ratchet sighed once again, turning towards the door. “Fine.” He uttered, in the crude way that expressed his distaste. “Just know that he may appear different than what you remember him to be.” He said, then entered the key code to open the door hatch and again to close it. Every ounce of his being screamed at him not to do this… yet another part of him, one who remembered who both of them used to be before the incident with the council, felt a touch of somberness. These two mechs, proven by Ratchet’s questioning, had no memory of anything that occurred at least a few cycles prior to the council meeting and thus were trapped in a time that wasn’t their own. To conclude, both Orion, as well as Megatron, would function better if they were able to see each other and talk.

Nodding to himself, Ratchet pushed in the key code to unlock the door leading to the room he’d just stepped out of to retrieve Orion, as well as explain to him everything he’d just explained moments ago to Megatron.

What a long day this was turning out to be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somebody get this robutt gramps a high grade.


	4. Words and Worries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! :D
> 
> Sorry if this seems rushed. I just want to make sure I stay on top of this plot bunny, seeing how I have another chapter-fic in the works.

The large grey door shifted open.

Megatron’s optics darted to the approaching silhouette in the door frame. As per Ratchets words, the frame that emerged was indeed different. In front of him stood a bold red and blue frame. He instantly recognized the color scheme as Orion’s, but other than that this mech was a stranger. He most likely rose to a head or so smaller than himself, and was much broader in width. As Megatron’s optics traveled upward, he mentally grinned, noticing the antenna-like appendages that were still present and did wonders framing that pristine face plate and bright blue optics that looked directly at his own.

Orion’s optics widened at the sight of his friend. From Ratchet’s explanation, he understood if Megatron had to be restrained, but he was expecting stasis cuffs on his servos and peds at most. This… method of imprisonment just didn’t suit Megatron. He was much too mighty to be held in such a state, a part of the archivist thought. 

Stepping past the threshold of the prison cell door, Orion made his way to the front of the stasis pod and regarded his comrade with a nod and a smile. “Thank Primus you’re alright.” He said.

Megatron’s level of surprise heightened at the baritone timber of Orion’s voice. “If you call this ‘alright’.”

He chuckled, smile widening. “Better than getting strung upside down and being at risk of processor failure.”

Megatron grinned in return, emitting a small laugh of his own. “Indeed.” He replied, wanting more than anything to reach a servo up to offer a reassuring touch to his shoulder plating. “It’s good to see you.”

“What do you remember?” Megatron asked, preferring to get to the point. Pleasantries could come after.

Orion hummed in thought before answering. “We discussed how we’d go about our meeting with the council. We were at your living quarters and you’d just finished a match not too long ago.” Orion paused, smiling at the memory. “I brought over a new brew of high grade for us to sample that prowl had given to me. If memory serves, we were enjoying ourselves a little _too much_.”

Megatron laughed, reminiscing in that moment as well. “Yes. We also got very little _talking_ done, if I recall correctly.”

“Which is specifically why I highly suggested that I _not_ bring it over.”

“It was a good match that evening. Why not celebrate alongside plotting our next plan of action?”

“Because if _I_ recall correctly,” Orion said, tone dropping to radiate a sense of coyness. He walked beside the pod and tapped a finger against a glass in a playfully scolding manner. “You have _trouble_ multitasking when fermented within the bottle.”

Megatron smirked. “No wrong time to appreciate the finer things in life.”

“Sounds a bit hypocritical coming from you.”

“Perhaps.” Megatron said, smirk widening. “However, what I don’t recall is your complaint. You weren’t exactly in your right mind any more than I was.”

“At least I know when enough is enough. If I hadn’t pulled that cube away from you, who _knows_ how your living space would have looked by the end of the night cycle?” Orion laughed, enjoying their small exchange, happy to see his friend again.

“Well,” Megatron said. “I’m lucky to have an ally who _frets_ over me when I’m off the deep end, so to speak.”

Orion pouted slightly. “I don’t _fret_ over you. I’m looking out for you, Megatron. If I were to truly fret over you, you’d never see the light of the ring again.”

Megatron quirked an optical ridge. “You don’t enjoy watching me fight?”

Any good mood Orion might have possessed instantly vanished. “No.” He said, tone quieting to almost a whisper. He traced his digit along the side glass of the pod slowly, expression blank. “You’re the best there is, no doubt. However, in the wise words of Alpha Trion, **“** always be weary of what you think you know best **”**. You know the ring better than anyone, but when you fight you’re still subjected to pure luck like anyone else is who steps past its threshold.” Orion said, allowing the full extent of his worry to thread through his words.

Megatron’s gaze hovered towards the ceiling of the cell room, not wanting to see that normally energetic face plate troubled in any way. “I haven’t hit rock bottom yet.”

Orion’s smile returned briefly before vanishing once more. “And thankfully you never will. Now that the war is --”

“--over? Hardly.” Megatron rolled his optics. “If there’s one thing persistent about our race, it’s that we’re… well, persistent. And stubborn.”

“Sounds like a tall, intimidating mech I know.” Orion remarked, trying to lighten the mood even if just by a smidge.

Megatron appreciated the moment of lightheartedness, and offered Orion a small grin. “Perhaps.” He said, agreeing he fit well in respect to societal rigidness. “Nonetheless, any cybertronian a part of this war will not surrender lightly. War isn’t kind to anyone.”

“That may be true, but… we can’t carry on forever like this.”

“No, we can’t.” Megatron agreed. “Especially since energon is a limited resource if consumed faster than it is allowed to regenerate.”

“Which is inevitable when at war.”

“Yes.”

A brief moment of silence fell into place, neither one of them wanting to talk, let alone think about the war that they’d played a major role in, conscious of it or not. 

“At war or not,” Orion said, placing his full servo to the glass of the pod, his smile returning in earnest. “I’m happy to see you, Megatron, and thankful you’re alright.”

Megatron returned the smile. “I’m surprised I am - what with all the punches and blasts you must’ve thrown my way.”

:-:

They talked for what seemed to them like an eternity, but was really only a few joors in the real world. Most of their talk was of memories up to the point where the fabric of their minds were singed. Both of them contributed equally to their conversation, them both being very opinionated individuals. While this did sometimes lead to quarrels between them, more often than not, it lead to healthy laughter.

This is how they remembered it.

This sense of companionship and easygoing exchange was exactly what they were used to.

They didn’t know any different, after all.

It’s as if there was never any exodus or war in the time and words and laughs shared in this small cell room.

:-:

Ratchet walked back to his station, emitting an exasperated sigh, knowing that the others would return from routine patrol any moment now and he’d have to explain events for the _third time this cycle._ Honestly, he feels as if he’s never talked this much in one day in his entire life! Even the oral reports he’d give to his medical superiors before the war didn’t drone on as long at this predicament.

The sounds of a door opening and the rumble of engines signaled the return of the rest of team prime. Once they’d transformed and took a look around, they noticed Optimus was nowhere in sight.

“Where’d he --” Bulkhead began to ask, but was abruptly cut off.

“Iyep, iyep, iyep! I’ve explained enough for one day.” Ratchet said, walking over to the three Autobots. “If you must know, they’re ‘catching up’. Now if you _don’t mind,_ I think I’ll recharge for a while.” He grumbled, walking past Bulkhead and headed off for their recharge chambers. “I highly suggest you get some as well. Megatron’s as tied up as he can possibly be and _Orion_ is in no harm, I assure you.” He called out from down the hallway.

The echo Ratchet’s ped steps disappeared, leaving Arcee, Bumblebee, and Bulkhead standing in confusion.

::I don’t like this:: Bumblebee groaned in a series of low pitched beeps.

“Welcome to the club.” Arcee said, her tone matching the scouts in annoyance.


	5. Betwixt and Between Ideas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So............... this is shit. That moment when you promise a large update and only post a single chapter with nothing but character dialog in it. Shoot, I'm sorry guys :( Partly, this is cuz of my interest slipping, BUT I SHALL NOT FALL OFF! I swear! Well, enjoy this, I suppose. Again, sorry for making an empty promise :(

“So, the big guy lost his marbles?” Miko asked.

“Not quite.” Ratchet said. “More like his memories. I believe that phrase refers to when one loses their sanity.”

Miko shrugged, thinking of nothing else to say.

“Ok, so… how do we fix it?” asked Jack, wanting to know more in order to see if he could help in anyway. Little did he know how important he was as of this moment.

“When Optimus surrendered the matrix, he lost more than the collective wisdom of the Primes - he lost himself.”

“Meaning?”

“Optimus has reverted to his pre-prime state - an archivist named Orion Pax.”

“Are you telling me that Prime thinks he’s some sort of Librarian?!” Agent Fowler asked, outraged that their team leader would make such a miscalculation.

“Optimus may not remember any of the war, but I have taken the _liberty_ of explaining everything to him as well as to Megatron.”

“Tall, evil, and scary’s here too?!” Miko suddenly jumped back into the conversation, her tone conveying her half worry and half excitement.

“Whoa, you never told us that.” 

“As of now, these are desperate times, Jack. We have exited one of our darkest hours and seemed to have plunged into another one, thus we shall take any means of an upper hand we can.”

“By bringing the leader of the Decepticons into the base, where he could contact his men at any given moment? Ever think of that?” Fowler asked matter-of-factly.

Ratchet sighed. “Pu- _lease._ You honestly believe that I wouldn’t take the proper precautions necessary? Mind you that our guest has no knowledge of the war either. Somehow when Unicron was returned to his slumbering state, the dark energon coursing through Megatron was siphoned out along with his knowledge of anything that has transpired within the past four million years. I’ve taken the initiative of disabling his communication link to the nemesis as well as making sure he’s restrained with every type of imprisonment lock, cuff, and chaining system we have available to us, so to answer your question - _yes_ I’ve thought of that.”

“Alright, alright.” Jack cut in, not wanting an argument to break out when everyone was still so confused. “Both Optimus- er, Orion and Megatron know what’s up. What’s the first step we need to take to get Optimus back to us?” Jack asked, pacing back and forth.

“To return Optimus to the correct mindset, we need the only relic capable of accessing Vector sigma - it’s key.”

“Do we even have _time_ for a scavenger hunt?” Fowler cut in, uncertain of what realistic options they have as of now. “It could be anywhere on earth! Even with your ground bridge technology, it could take a long amount of time - time that we could be spending to track and take down the cons!”

Ratchet was just as much in the dark as everyone else - until Jack turned his back while pacing and the medic saw what he had stowed in his back pocket. “I do not believe that will be necessary, Agent Fowler.” Ratchet said. “Jack, where did you get that?” He motioned towards the pocket containing the very relic they were speaking of.

“Oh, this?” Jack reached for the item and pulled it from his back pocket. “Optimus trusted me with it.”

“He gave you the key to Vector Sigma?!”

“The key to- what? No. This is the key to the ground bridge power supply.”

“No, Jack, it’s not. There is no key to the ground bridge. That item you hold in your hands is the only relic capable of opening Vector Sigma, as well as one of Cybertron’s most important relics.”

It took him a moment to realize what exactly it was he was holding. Judging by Ratchets words and expression, he could tell the medic wasn’t kidding him. “This is… whoa.” He said, awe grazing his tone. “I shouldn’t have this.” Jack said, ready to hand it over to Ratchet, unknowing of why Optimus would trust him with such an important item.

“Optimus entrusted _you_ with the key, Jack. Not me.”

Jack pondered his thoughts and confusion before nodding. “Ok… great! This solves our problem right? So, which one’s the big “V”? Stowed in back somewhere? In a vault?”

Ratchet shook his head. “Vector Sigma is the deposit of the collective wisdom of the Primes, located _on Cybertron_.”

The human nodded once more, unaware of what was being implied. “Alright, so here,” he held up the key again, expecting Ratchet to take it from him, and begin plotting coordinates for their home planet. 

“Listen, Jack. Vector Sigma itself can only be accessed by a Prime-”

“Well, guess _that_ chance is out the window.” said Miko.

“-or,” Ratchet continued, “one chosen by a Prime.”

“So, Jack get’s to be some _‘honorary Prime’_?” Agent Fowler asked, half in disbelief. 

“Let’s just say… Jack is the only hope we have of restoring Optimus back to himself.”

June, having finally found a way to wrap her head around all this information marched up to her son and pointed at him in a scolding manner. “Jackson Darby, you are _not_ traveling to another planet!”

Jack turned to face his mother. “Mom, you heard Ratchet. Besides, Optimus has done so much for us. This is the least I can do to return the favor. I have to.”

June sighed angrily, worried and afraid that this is turning out to be yet another situation out of her control involving her son. She glanced at Ratchet, who simply nodded, assuring her in any way he could that it was their only hope of getting Optimus back. June shook her head slightly, placing her hands on her son’s shoulders. “I don’t like it, but, fine. As long as you have a chaperone.” 

“Cybertron tourism 101, on it.” Arcee said without hesitation, ready to help her human companion in anyway she could.

“Then it’s settled.” Ratchet concluded, turning towards their base’s control panel. “Setting coordinates to Cybertron.”

_Home._

:-:

He tapped away vigorously at the multi colored keys of the ship's control console. It’s been approximately 3 ½ Earth days since they’d lost all means of communication with their master, no comms, no text link, nothing.

 _Nothing._ Soundwave thought to himself. _How did they manage to slip of radar completely?_

His tapping quieted as he heard the approaching footsteps of another decepticon officer. Too busy to acknowledge who they were, Soundwave didn’t know which officer entered the brig until they spoke up.

“Honestly Soundwave, you’ll give yourself a processor ache if you stare at a screen for that long.” Knockout said, his tone void of any worry, but was genuinely concerned due in part of his medical coding. “Seriously, how long _have_ you been standing in the brig?”

Still not acknowledging the other presence in the room, Soundwave continued to rhythmically tap button after button, his drive to find his leader consuming his full and utmost attention. 

Knockout scoffed, offended at the notion of being ignored. “Well, do what you feel you need to do, but at least remain _fueled and functional_ while doing so.” He said, walking up to the control console and placing two cubes of energon on the end of it, not wishing to disrupt Soundwave’s focus. “I mean it. The last thing we need is the Decepticon TIC offlining due to malnutrition. Especially when our _lord and master_ left feisty eight-legs in charge.”

Though Soundwave still made no effort to respond to the vain medic, he couldn’t help but agree. With Starscream out of the picture, he’d wish his lord would have entrusted himself with the charge of the Decepticon army, but alas, what’s done is done. Arachnid could boast all she wanted of doing what was “in the best interest of the Decepticons”, as she would say, but the moment she started talking of abandoning their leader, Soundwave would have to step in. He disliked her from the moment he’d met her - seeing the sly deception and intent to betray in her optics. Deceiving others outside of their cause was acceptable - praised at times - but the moment deception happened among their own ranks, that’s when trouble began to erupt, which more often than not lead to setbacks. 

Soundwave stayed silent when Megatron had made the decision to spare Starscream - multiple times - as he always did, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t shouting inside that Megatron would just do away with him already. If anyone cause deception among ranks, it was the sly seeker. Sure, he’d been useful at the dawn of this war, but so much time has passed since then, and Starscream had become infused with the idea he’d some day rule the Decepticons as Megatron has. Though he quietly admits to himself that Megatron had lost himself in power somewhere along the way, Soundwave would gladly have the former gladiator in the front seat than some cowardly piece of scrap - all the more reason to speed up the location process, before any other officer gets ideas of taking the reins.

Knockout rolled his optics, seeing how he wasn’t getting any response from the communications officer. He glanced at the monitor Soundwave was currently using to see the levels of progress before turning to leave. Before he could, however, Soundwave stopped his taping long enough for him to turn his helm to the side, give a brief nod to the doctor, and then resume his work. Knockout raised an optical ridge and took a few steps back. _That_ was unlike the TIC. He’d only ever made such gestures to Megatron out of respect and loyalty, but never to other officers - or anyone for that matter. Thinking nothing of it, other than Soundwave’s current anxious state to locate their leader, Knockout turned to leave the bridge. Before stepping past the door’s threshold, Knockout spoke once more, “I mean it, Soundwave. As you probably know more than anyone, we can’t afford any more loss. Now _fuel._ ” He essentially demanded before leaving. On some level, he surprised himself by his own words. Knockout was never one to show a large amount of concern - nor was anyone aboard the ship or in the Decepticon army in general - but for some reason, he let the smallest bit of sincerity slip past his vocalizer.

“Odd.” He said to himself as he resumed his post at the medbay. “Hopefully order will return soon with or without Megatron, I don’t like this discord turmoil one bit.”

“You and me both.” 

Knockout swiftly turned his frame to see his assistant standing in the doorway. “Honestly,” Knockout said as Breakdown approached him. “Where on this Primus-forsaken rock could he _be?_

Breakdown hummed in thought. “Earth isn’t nearly as big as Cybertron, but it _is_ still pretty big. He could be anywhere.”

Knockout sighed, placing his servos on his hips. “Such help your answer is to the situation.”

Chuckling, Breakdown placed his own servo gently onto Knockouts shoulder plating, careful not to smudge his praised finish. “Soundwave is the best there is at what he does, right? The eyes and ears of the Decepticons, yeah? He’ll find him, Knockout.”

The doctor sighed with exaggeration this time, leaning against his assistants frame. “Anyone but Arachnid. She’s only a smidge better than Starscream, but not much if you think about it. The creepy-crawler is only out for herself - more than willing to sacrifice _all_ of us if need be.”

“Can’t argue much there.” Breakdown agreed. “She does hate the idea of sharing and working with a team… if… you can even call the Decepticons that.”

“We’re a force to be reckoned with, and that’s all the Autobots need to know.” Knockout said, trying to convince himself that this war wasn’t looking like it would end at any point. Yes, fighting grew tiresome, but it was familiar ground and an environment where he could perform his medical duties his coding required of him. It was all he’s known for a while. “I only hope we’ll remain that force.”

:-:

 

“It’s just… what are we supposed to tell Autobots stationed all over the galaxy? Optimus Prime lost his memories and is therefore not a Prime anymore, thus ending the war? And, oh, that the fearsome and evil Decepticon commander is in the same boat so we can all return home and sing kum-by-yah?” Arcee said to Bumblebee, the scout conveying he felt the same way through a series of monotoned blips.

//Things were going so well, looking up, you know? It’s too bad that this happened just as Unicron was put to rest. Who knows? Maybe after it all blew over, we could have reached a stalemate.//

“In _our_ war? I don’t think so. Even if we did, it wouldn’t last long. Megatron would have found a way to get the jump on us as always.”

Bumblebee metaphorically sighed. //We need to take _some_ sort of action.//

“No.” Arcee said firmly. “As much as sitting around with the present situation on our shoulders makes my blasters itch, we have to stay put.”

Bee snorted. //Funny coming from the one always eager to carve her name on con’s hides.//

Arcee would have rolled her optics and gave her teammate a playful punch to his frame if she weren’t driving in her alt mode. “Yeah, well, this is unfamiliar territory for _both_ factions. I’d be surprised if the Decepticons had any game plan whatsoever.” She said, leaving the conversation to the wind, not wanting to dwell on the turmoil that currently hung over their helms and wanting to focus on their patrol route, though she as well as Bumblebee doubted there’d be any decepticons in the area with all that has happened in the last three days. 

//You’re right. We don’t need to take action.// Bumblebee spoke, breaking the quiet of the vast desert land they drove through. When Arcee made no move to reply, Bumblebee finished his thought - one that would hopefully be the next route taken in this storm of confusion and fear. //What we _need_ is back up.//


End file.
